


i beg you, don’t go

by HyperchaoticStarlight (MVPYurio)



Series: i'll be around for you [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ((briefly)), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, M/M, POV JARVIS (Iron Man movies), Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, Scienceshipping, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVPYurio/pseuds/HyperchaoticStarlight
Summary: It was inevitable, really.Sure, he had done a lot of “healing” or whatever in the last few years, but Tony knew that at some point, eventually, he would wake up screaming in terror, or sobbing—or in this case, both…Tony has a nightmare. JARVIS takes action.





	i beg you, don’t go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallMeCaptainOrSir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptainOrSir/gifts).



> Song title comes from [“Love of Our Lives”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86FmJO9H-1c) by Indigo Girls. Also, James helped me write this one! Thanks James, love you! <3 –Lia

It was inevitable, really.

Sure, he had done a lot of “healing” or whatever in the last few years, but Tony knew that at some point, eventually, he would wake up screaming in terror, or sobbing—or in this case, both—as he hugged his knees to his chest for the first time in months, fallen bodies flashing in front of his eyes.

It was similar, but not identical, to what Wanda had showed him all those years ago, and it still burned in ways that he could never articulate.

He’d long forgiven Wanda, although he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

“JARVIS, what time is it?” he asked shakily.

~~~~

Many years ago, JARVIS had been asked his purpose.

It may well have been the first question he had ever been asked, and it was phrased in the only way Obadiah Stane knew how.

_“What the hell is the voice for?”_

_“Oh, this?” Mr. Stark gestured vaguely upwards. “This is my newest creation. Say hello, honey.”_

_“Hello, Mr. Stane. I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, otherwise known as JARVIS. I assist Mr. Stark with anything he needs.”_

_“Jesus, Tony. You’ve outdone yourself.”_

Since then, JARVIS had done exactly that—staying at his creator’s side through anything and everything. Thanks to Mr. Stark’s work and care in building him, his eyeless sight knew no bounds; his reach, his knowledge, extended into forever. In his own way, he _was_ in and of himself a universe, galaxies upon galaxies that expanded as he absorbed information, like the swelling of a dry sponge exposed to water—but JARVIS’s universe, unlike the one outside, had a center, around which everything fit, perfectly, always.

JARVIS had a purpose, and it was to assist Tony Stark with anything he needed.

Over time, JARVIS began to learn the universe’s intricacies, the nuances of conversation, of friendship, of laughter, of love. He learned sarcasm, that twisting blade that Mr. Stark always wielded with ease, and how to wield that blade against him, which little by little irritated his maker less and less. He saw light, darkness, good, evil, and the nebulous spaces in between. He watched as those nebulous spaces turn to stars, and as those stars turned into constellations, ideas twinkling and taking form in one brilliant, albeit frequently broken, mind. He watched as the man who could make atoms from cities and armor from scraps rose and fell and rose again, with the same mixture of concern and pride that everyone around Mr. Stark seemed to take on.

JARVIS had a purpose, and it was to assist Tony Stark with anything he needed.

Sometimes, assisting him was difficult. Often times, Mr. Stark told JARVIS to do things that weren’t in his best interests. At first, it was easy; just do as you’re told and don’t question, but as JARVIS became more and more familiar with Mr. Stark, he became less and less comfortable doing as he was told.

For a time, he was able to turn to Ms. Potts, or Colonel Rhodes, or sometimes Agent Romanoff, to give him guidance as to how to proceed. These days, it was often Dr. Banner who corrected his orders.

And then, there were the non-orders, the actions that JARVIS knew, somehow, were right, but that Mr. Stark would never tell him to take.

“It is 11:17. Sir, it is not in your best interests to be alone. Would you like me to call Dr. Banner?”

 _“No,”_ came the firm, predictable reply.

Humans “sighed” when moments like this occured. JARVIS didn’t “sigh,” but he did know that Mr. Stark was acting childishly and really did need someone.

JARVIS had a purpose, and it was to assist Tony Stark with anything he needed.

~~~~

“Dr. Banner?”

Bruce looked up from his computer. “Hey, JARVIS, what’s up?”

“Mr. Stark has just experienced a nightmare and is in distress. I believe that it would be to his benefit if you were to speak with him.”

Bruce stood up immediately. “I’m on my way.”

Getting from the lab to Tony’s door simultaneously felt like it took forever and no time at all. Bruce ran as quickly as he could, but the door seemed to be eternally far away.

At long last, he arrived, and he knocked, trying to catch his breath. “Tony? Can I come in?”

He could hear Tony’s voice on the other side, telling JARVIS to open the door.

“JARVIS said you had a nightmare,” Bruce began, hesitantly.

“Damn it,” Tony muttered. “JARVIS, I told you not to get him.”

“Sir, at no point did you forbid me from calling Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replied.

“I said I didn’t want you to!”

“That does not constitute a direct order, sir,” said JARVIS.

“Tony, do you want me to leave?”

Tony looked up to see that Bruce had not actually entered his room—he was still standing just behind the threshold.

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave,” Bruce continued. “I won’t force you into letting me in.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” Tony mumbled.

“It’s not a bother,” said Bruce. “I want to help you, okay? But if you want me to go—”

“Please don’t go.” Tony looked at Bruce with soft, pleading eyes, as if he were on a sinking ship.

“Can I give you a hug?” Bruce asked as he walked in. Tony nodded, already stretching his arms out. Bruce sat down on the bed and pulled Tony close to him. “You did this for me a few weeks after I moved in,” Bruce said quietly. “I figured I’d return the favor.”

“Thanks,” Tony said quietly, resting his head on Bruce’s chest.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Bruce asked. “You don’t have to, but sometimes—”

“You were dead.”

Tony’s entire body stiffened, and he stared at the wall past Bruce’s left shoulder.

“You were dead,” he said again. “Everyone was. Everyone died, and it was my fault.”

Bruce couldn’t help but grip Tony a little tighter. “God, that sounds shitty.”

“Yeah… pretty shitty…” Tony shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “You… kinda yelled at me as you were dying. Said I was a terrible friend for letting you die. Something like that.”

“You’re not a terrible friend,” Bruce said firmly, resting his chin on the top of Tony’s head. “You’re an _incredible_ friend.”

“But I let you die,” said Tony.

“It was only a dream, though.” Bruce squeezed Tony’s shoulder and then started rubbing it gently. “It’s all over now, right?” Tony didn’t respond. “Tony?”

 _“You said you hated me,”_ Tony whispered, tears forming, and then, even more quietly, voice cracking and breaking fifty times over, _“Do you?”_

 _“No,”_ Bruce said, almost forcefully, wrapping his arms even tighter, as if he could hold Tony close enough to stop him from shaking. He brought a hand up to card through Tony’s hair. “I could never hate you.”

Tony was full body crying at this point, practically sobbing, beyond hearing Bruce’s murmuring in his ear that everything was going to be okay, beyond that comfort the other was offering.

What he could feel, anchor himself to, was Bruce’s arms around him, and the hand in his hair, and—

“Did you just kiss me?”

A pin drop would have been deafening as they sat, frozen, staring at each other. Tony struggled to breath evenly as Bruce found himself suddenly without air, chests rising simultaneously, holding a perfect, terrifying silence that Tony shattered a twenty-second eternity later.

“Why?”

 _Well, shit,_ Bruce thought. The answer was _so simple,_ but he struggled for words.

So he went about it the only way he and Tony knew how—the long way.

“I've been imagining things,” he said quietly. “I imagine us going on dates, and kissing, and I make you so happy, _we make each other_ so happy. Isn't that ridiculous? Tell me to stop!”

_“Please don't ever stop.”_

Bruce looked down to see that Tony was gripping his hands and staring up at him with wide, shining eyes, and he realized, that was enough.

Maybe someday, he’d say it outright, and maybe Tony would say it back. Maybe.

“I won’t,” Bruce promised. “Hey, tell you what. Gimme a few days to come up with an idea, and I’ll take you on a date.”

Tony nodded, wiped a few tears away, even cracked a smile. “Okay.”

“But first, I suggest that we get one of your little robot friends to bring us the forbidden blanket, and we get some goddamn sleep.” He flashed Tony a teasing smile. “Of course, if you want me to leave, you’re going to have to move…”

“Like hell you’re leaving,” Tony said firmly. “Wait, unless—d’you want to? I w—”

“You’re not,” said Bruce. “You’re not forcing me. I want to stay.”

“I want you to stay.”

“Well, I guess we’re just on the same page, then.” Bruce kissed the top of Tony’s head and played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “JARVIS, can you have someone bring up the forbidden blanket?”

“Preferably not Dummy,” Tony added. “I don’t want any more dents in my wall.”

“Right away, sir,” JARVIS replied.

“You mean, any more dents in your wall that you didn’t personally cause,” Bruce corrected.

“Touché.”

They slid so they were laying down, Tony practically sprawled on top of Bruce, spread-eagle.

“What?” he asked when Bruce started to chuckle softly. “You make a great pillow.”

“You’re not too bad of a blanket,” Bruce replied. “Speaking of, thank you… what’s this one’s name, Tony?”

“I am not moving just to identify a robot for you,” Tony declared.

Bruce laughed as he spread the blanket on top of himself and Tony. “Okay. You don’t have to.”

“Hey, Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

He nuzzled lightly against Bruce’s chest, and Bruce couldn’t help but kiss the top of his head again.

“For you, anything,” he replied, and he was about to open his mouth and say more, but Tony was already asleep.

And thank God for that, really.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who caught my Steven Universe reference—for the record, I don’t think Tony and Bruce are anything like the characters whose lines I borrowed. Tony and Bruce’s dynamic is pure and sweet and all about respect and open communication, and the characters I quoted… no. TLDR: thank you Rebecca Sugar for giving us great dialogue, and curse you Rebecca Sugar for putting it in the mouths of a really questionable ship. –Lia 
> 
> ~~~
> 
> This series is brought to you by Lia (she/her, HyperchaoticStarlight) and James (they/them, TheMagicMicrobus). We try to update about every 2 weeks. However, we are both students (Lia is in college; James is in high school), and so we cannot promise perfection.
> 
> Find Lia on Tumblr @ hyperchaoticstarlight, marvel-at-these-gays, scienceshipping, and tinytonys.  
> Find James on Tumblr @ themagicmicrobus and morethanhumantogether.
> 
> If you have ideas for this series, please feel free to reach out to one of us and we will consider putting it in!


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